Secrets
by everyothermonday
Summary: Another marriage law fanfic.. Honestly shouldn't need any more of a summary than that because I suck :P I suppose the basic premise of this story will be.. we all have secrets Several pairings.
1. Chapter 1

Hm so I love the marriage law trope. Some would say it's overused but it's still my favorite. I'm not a very good writer lol so no hard feelings if you all hate it. In fact, I don't think I've written anything creative that wasn't assigned in school. But I'd appreciate if no one purposely hurt my precious fweewings... lmbo

* * *

Hermione, Ginny, Harry, and Ron were waiting in a meeting room at the Ministry. The four of them received an Owl from the current Minister of Magic – Kingsley Shacklebolt – that there was an urgent matter that required their attendance. So here they were.

"What do you think they want," Ginny asked, twirling her hair in front of her face.

"Hell if I know," Ron shrugged. He was walking on the long meeting room table. "Maybe they've finally figured out they can't solve the current fuck up and want us to save them all over again."

Hermione rolled her eyes. Only Ron would walk on a Ministry meeting room table and think nothing of it.

"Well, something does need to be done," Harry commented, bored.

It's been two years since the Battle of Hogwarts and the fall of Voldemort. Initially, no one was concerned. A war had just happened, and of course people needed time to heal. But after a while, it was noticed that there was still a decline. The wizarding population of Britain was dangerously low. The Ministry had been rolling out incentives for becoming pregnant such as monthly allowances and larger tax breaks; however, nothing worked.

"I don't see what they can do," Hermione sat with her arms crossed. "The government cannot simply force people to have more children."

The door opened, and the four of them turned to see who it was.

"The bloody hell is the ferret and his goon doing here?" Ron asked from on top of the table.

Blaise Zabini and Draco Malfoy had walked in. The two of them sat down on the far end of the table. "Apparently, not only did his parents breed like animals they raised them as such too," Zabini drawled, leaning back in his chair with his hands in his pockets.

Ron hopped off the table. "What did you say about my parents you arrogant sod?"

Zabini was only able to raise a brow before Minister Shacklebolt arrived. He cleared his throat. "Please take a seat, Mr. Weasley," he requested as he took his place in front of the room.

Ron muttered something angrily but took a seat nonetheless.

"Why were we called here Minister Shacklebolt," Hermione asked politely.

"Yeah and why were these two nimrods invited as well," Ginny added, jerking her thumb towards the two Slytherins.

"I will be getting…"

The entire room turned their attention to the double doors that were pushed open by a magically produced gust of wind. Pansy strutted in. Her stilettos clicking on the floor, her chin-length hair bounced with each step, and her over-sized sunglasses prevented the others from seeing her roll her eyes at them.

"Okay fives," she looked at Hermione. "And the 4 1/2, a ten is here," she declared as she walked over and sat next to Draco. "You may continue wasting our time," she placed her sunglasses on top of her head and propped her feet on the table.

Those who were on the right side of the war all simultaneously either rolled their eyes or groaned. The two Slytherins remained unfazed as they have grown used to Pansy's personality.

"Pansy," Blaise drawled. "Must you always make such a dramatic entrance?"

"Of course," she scoffed. "It would be oh so drab to merely walk in looking clueless like I'm sure those four do," she jerked her chin towards the former Gryffindors

"Now that we're all here," Minister Shacklebolt said, giving Pansy a look of censure. "I will cut to the chase. The Ministry has decided on a course of action for the current population issue. It has been decided that a marriage law will be put in place. And you all will be the firsts to participate in hopes to encourage morale between the differing social and blood statuses."

The room was deathly quiet. No one knew quite what to say. Ron sat there with his mouth open. Blaise merely frowned. Pansy was examining her freshly manicured nails, and Ginny was picking at her bitten ones. Harry and Draco were the only ones merely sitting there waiting for Shacklebolt to say something more. Harry felt that he simply had no more fight left in him and Draco, well Draco had other motives.

Hermione was the first to break the silence by clearing her throat and standing up. "Shacklebolt, I will ask that you recall the Battle of Hogwarts. You were dueling two death eaters simultaneously when a third death eater was poised to send the killing curse towards you from behind. I saw this and sent my own killing curse. If I didn't, you would have died. Therefore, you owe me a life debt, and I am calling it in."

"Bloody hell," Ron said, impressed. "She always finds a way out.

"I keep track of all my life debts Ms. Granger and because the council accounted for each and every life debt that was owed to you three we made sure that at least half owed you none. The marriage law will still go into effect."

"How diligent of you; however, how do you know I wasn't going to ask you to run arse naked across the Quidditch field while smacking your arse and yelling that Hermione Granger saved this arse from certain doom?"

Ginny slow clapped. "I don't think I've ever heard you say 'arse' so many times in one sentence."

"Granger's attempting to punish us all," Malfoy had a disgusted look on his face as if he had imagined it.

"Hermione this is no time for jokes," Shacklebolt said, upset.

"Oh I don't know Minister," Ginny said, tapping her finger on her chin. "The Harpies are looking for a good halftime show."

Hermione took her seat. "I assure you I am not joking. If I am paired with the great white ferret or his lackey in the name of 'morale', then I will be calling in not only your life debt but the life debts of every person who had a hand in this."

Pansy scoffed, her feet still resting on the table. "Oh, you insufferable slag. You should be so lucky. At least with these two, you'd be getting a man with wealth, social standing, and pedigree. My choices are the male Raggedy Anne doll and the boy scar head wonder."

"And speaking of which," Pansy looked around the room. "Why are there more men than women?"

"Harry has been paired with Daphne Greengrass who could not make it, but she has already been informed."

Pansy slammed her feet down to the ground and slammed her hands on the table. "Do NOT tell me I'm with the boy raggedy Anne doll!" She shrieked. Draco touched her arm and told her to compose herself. To which she took his hand in hers and threw it back to him. She did compose herself though.

"Now with that being said, let's get on to the rest of the pairings," Shacklebolt said, taking a breath. He knew they would not like this. "Ms. Parkinson you are indeed with Ronald. Ginny, you will be with Blaise, so that means…"

"What the fuck," Hermione said, deadpan.

Shacklebolt gave her a look. "And of course, Hermione and Draco."

Ron and Harry immediately stood up and started to argue Hermione's pairing.

"How could you make 'mione marry that prat," Ron shouted. "He did nothing but torture her! And speaking of torture did you even consider the word that was carved into her fucking arm!"

"I never would have expected this from you Kingsley," Harry chimed in. "We fought together. Hermione saved you. And you throw her into a pit of snakes?"

The three former Slytherins sat back and let the insults roll off their backs.

Pansy was once again looking at her nails and commented nonchalantly, "I suppose I'll have to start planning the wedding," she had a look of distaste. "I suppose red could be a nice accent color to the wedding. I look good in red, and my future husband _is_ red."

"How exciting," Draco said, sounding bored. "I imagine my mother will plan mine. Hopefully, Granger doesn't mind an over the top wedding."

"As if she would even deserve it," Pansy remarked.

"At least the Weasley girl is nice to look at," Blaise said, leaning forward, putting his elbows on his legs. "Sexy even. Can't say I have many complaints."

Pansy looked disgusted at his assessment and Draco rolled his eyes.

"Yes yes," Draco drawled. "You got the sexy professional Quidditch player. While I got the annoying harpy. Congratulations."

Blaise turned his attention to Hermione who was still fervently arguing with Shacklebolt. "Granger too. Maybe not sexy but traditionally beautiful. Well, if you fix the hair that is. Honestly, you could do worse."

Ginny got a wicked glint in her eyes. She stood up and called attention to the room. "I, for one, will be looking forward to this union," she turned to Blaise. "Zabini, I expect that your reputation precedes you and that you will successfully screw me until I can no longer stand," she turned and smiled at Ron before sitting back down.

"3, 2, 1," she counted.

"Whaaat?!" Ron screamed. "Don't you dare lay a hand on her Zabini!"

As he ranted nonsensically, Ginny burst into laughter. "FOUR SHADES! He's turned four shades of red!"

Pansy watched as the girl Weasley laughed at her brother's ranting. "I think I could be friends with that one," she said to Draco and Blaise.

Harry noticed how nonchalant all of them were being. "Why aren't any of you upset with this?"

"Oh, we are," Blaise said calmly. "We just have the self-respect to not make a scene. And besides, arranged marriages are common enough. This is no different."

"You're the best of them aren't you," Hermione asked bluntly, realizing that Blaise might be slightly more mature than the other two.

"Blaise is an insatiable little deviant," Pansy said. "Don't be greedy and be happy with Draco."

"No offense, but I don't see how anyone could be happy with any of you," Ron muttered miserably.

"To be offended," Pansy said loudly. "I would have to value the opinion of a maggot. Which I assure you, I do not."

Shacklebolt sighed, _"It's going to be a long day,"_ he thought, tiredly.


	2. Chapter 2

Probably the last chapter I'll post until a week or two. I thought posting two would be better than just one. Since sometimes I'll read and like the first chapter but then after weeks of waiting for a second, I feel let down by it and stop reading lmbo  
Also, I always imagine Lucius and Narcissa a taaaaaaaaaad different in my mind and I know a lot of people don't like that. You don't see it a lot but by this chapter you get an overall idea

And thank you for the kind words :D Also, constructive criticism is appreciated. I really don't write much so I know there's room for improvement.. just don't hurt my feelings because I'm sensitive lmfao

* * *

Shortly after Minister Shacklebolt announced the news, Blaise, Pansy, and Draco excused themselves and flooed to Pansy's home. Blaise made himself comfortable on one of the chairs and Draco laid across the sofa looking relaxed. Pansy, on the other hand, stomped out of the fireplace and headed straight to the liquor cabinet. She grabbed a bottle of firewhiskey and started to chug it straight from the bottle.

"Although unfortunate," Blaise said. "At least Granger and the Weasley girl are pleasant to look at."

Pansy slammed her bottled down, stomped over, and practically threw herself onto the vacant chair across from Blaise. "The narrow limits of your puny ineffectual brain truly astounds me," she spat. "We are being married off to poverty-stricken peasants, and that is the silver lining you come up with?! Truly Blaise, you are an idiot."

"Pans," Draco drawled. " Typically I adore your candor; however, you are giving me a headache. This marriage law is not worth all the fuss."

Pansy gave a mirthless laugh. "Not worth the fuss? Oh you poor love sick numpty," her tone was harsh. "I'm sure your infatuation with that bushy haired trollop is no fuss for you, but I, however, do not find anything appealing with being married to that red-headed prat."

Blaise's interest was piqued. "You and Granger," he said to Draco. "I hadn't realized you were in love with the Gryffindor lioness."

"Perhaps that is because you barely see anything besides your reflection or a pair of tits," Pansy remarked, wryly.

"I am not in love with Granger," Draco corrected, staring at the ceiling. "I don't even know her."

None of them missed the regret in his voice. Blaise wondered when that happened, and Pansy wondered why. Unbeknownst to the rest of their house, Pansy saw him looking at her. She saw him turn his gaze to her in potions. She saw him watch her in the great hall. She even noticed that he would go to the library early Saturday mornings because he knew Granger would sometimes fall asleep there Friday night. If you asked her, she thought it was bloody fucking creepy and pathetic. But she noticed nonetheless and until now she kept it to herself. After all, he kept her secret.

"Too bad about the scar," Blaise pointed out. "Forget about the school-aged bullying. Think she'll look past the fact that she was tortured by your aunt in the parlor of your manor?"

Draco ignored the question. "You know the best way to become a skilled occlumens?"

"How stupid do you think we are," Pansy spat, walking back to her liquor cabinet. She poured herself a glass this time and walked back to her seat. "Just because we didn't constantly come in second to your wanna be girlfriend doesn't mean we're idiots."

Blaise sat back and prepared himself for whatever story Draco was getting ready to tell. He had a feeling it would be good.

"Well, it's not something you can learn from a book. You'd be complete rubbish at it if you did. You need a teacher," Draco informed, ignoring Pansy. "My dear Aunt Bella was mine."

Blaise shifted his eyes to Draco. And even Pansy's expression fell slightly. Neither of them knew.

"I thought your father was your mentor," Pansy asked, her voice soft by her standards, not the average humans.

Draco merely shook his head. "No, it was that psychopath, Bella. Have you ever wondered why Bellatrix chose to interrogate Granger first when Potter would've been the smart choice? It's because she saw her. She saw Granger in the back of my mind. I suppose I had a habit of watching her."

Not even Pansy could scoff at that.

"Now that's where my confusion lies," Blaise intoned. "You did nothing but threaten and mock her. And now you're sitting here telling me you used to watch her like a love sick puppy? Sorry mate, but that doesn't even make sense."

"I was not love sick," Draco was growing annoyed with Blaise assuming he was in love. "She was just interesting," he sat up and turned to Blaise. "She's a muggleborn A mudblood. By everything we were taught she should have been an ugly, no talent, moronic fool. But she wasn't," he laid back down, almost violently, and crossed his arms across his chest. "At first I was trying to figure it out but then… I don't bloody know," he rubbed his face. "But then something changed, and I wasn't trying to figure it out anymore. I just enjoyed watching her."

Pansy finished her glass. "Draco, you realize how creepy that sounds, right?"

"Yeah mate, that's pretty fucking creepy," Blaise agreed.

"Oh screw off," Draco grumbled, standing up. "I have to go back to the manor."

The two of them waited for him to apparate out.

"He's fucked," Blaise told Pansy to which they both shared a laugh at his expense.

* * *

As soon as Draco apparated into the great room of Malfoy Manor, his house elf – Pimsy – greeted him. Contrary to popular belief, the Malfoys actually took rather good care of their house elves. Though admittedly, Lucius did have a bit of a temper when it came to Dobby.

"Master Draco," Pimsy exclaimed. "I is very glad to be seeing you. Pimsy made your favorite lemon tart with extra sugar. Yes Pimsy did! Will you be havings some now?"

"I'm not hungry at the moment Pimsy," Draco answered, taking a seat on a sofa.

Pimsy threw herself at Draco's feet and wailed. "I is slaving all day for Master Draco! I has a spoiled no good master! Oh woe is Pimsy!" She continued to cry and flail.

"Okay, I'll have one," Draco exclaimed, giving in.

Pimsy immediately stood up, refreshed. "Of course, I will be getting you one right away!"

Minutes after Pimsy left, his father appeared. He placed a plate with a lemon tart on it onto the coffee table before sitting next to Draco. "Is there a reason why Pimsy just came to see me in my study and informed me that I am neglecting my fatherly duties? She says that you are displaying mood number 7, which is severe brooding," he drawled.

"My future wife hates me," Draco pouted. "And what's worse I don't even know how to go about talking to her."

"Ah, I see. As you know son, your mother was not very fond of me either. However, Malfoy men are innately charming, and just like your mother Ms. Granger will come around. In fact, I will have your mother invite her over to dinner tomorrow."

"Father I do not see how dinner will help my situation? Especially considering the fact that you've tried to kill her and her friends."

"Yes," Lucious became pensive. "That may be a bit of a hurdle to jump over."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Oh, right ole help you are."

Lucius patted his son on the shoulder and stood up. "You'll see Draco, between your mother's wonderful dinner parties and the Malfoy charm you'll be sure to win over Ms. Granger. Though I can not fathom why you would want to."

Before Draco could retort, his father had already apparated to another part of the house. Surely to wherever his mother was so she could send an owl to Granger. He grabbed that lemon tart and started to eat it. He couldn't help but moan in satisfaction. Pimsy always did know how to make his favorite desserts to perfection.

As he ate, he pondered his family. Not so much his mother, but his father truly didn't care much for muggleborns or muggles even. It's not that he hated them. He didn't even truly wish them ill will. He simply didn't care about them. Did he think he was better? Yes, absolutely. Did he wish them to be all tortured and killed? No, not particularly. Voldemort brought out the worst in him. Of course that doesn't justify his actions. It doesn't make it okay. Just that his father wasn't the sadistic bastard everyone thought him as.

And if there was one thing that Lucius cared more about than his wealth or his blood status, it was his only son. And Lucius Malfoy would do anything for Draco. Including bribing the ministry the minute it was found out about the marriage law.


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione was finishing up a new law proposal that would subsidize the Wolfbanes potion so it would be more affordable to the general public. She thought it was absolutely reprehensible that shops were charging such and exorbitant amount for something that is so essential. As she was making the finishing touches, a ridiculously large white and black owl flew into her office and waited on her desk.

She stared at the owl and waited for him to drop something. When the owl merely cocked his head to the side she became impatient.

"Well, get on with it," she told him.

Hermione was slightly taken aback when the owl seemed to have rolled its eyes at her. She inwardly chided herself for being foolish. The owl left a cream colored envelope for her. She took it and then offered him a treat, to which he violently pecked her hand and flew away without the treat.

"Arrogant little bugger," she said as she looked at the scratch on her hand. She opened the letter and immediately groaned and cursed herself when she read the contents.

 _Hermione Granger,_

 _You are cordially invited to dinner at Malfoy Manor. The first course will be served promptly at 5:30 pm. Please dress appropriately._

 _Narcissa Malfoy_

Hermione crumpled the invite and threw it in the waste bin. She muttered a quick 'incendio' at it as well. She continued with her work while wondering what the bloody hell 'dress appropriately' was suppose to mean. Of course she knew she should go. They were to be married after all. But 'should' does not translate to 'will.'

Letting out what she considered as Britains longest sigh, she resolved to go. She needed them to know that she would not be bullied by them and that she doesn't give a fig about any of their prejudices.

She would also wear jeans and her t-shirt that had a picture of a rolled up cat and the word 'Purrito' under it.

* * *

Hermione arrived at Malfoy Manor promptly at 5:25 pm. She waited to be let in at the front door. She was not the least bit surprised when a house elf let her in. The house elf introduced himself as Sigmund. Hermione thought that a very strange name for a house elf.

When she entered the dining room, she immediately took joy in Malfoy's (Draco's) expression at her clothing. But that didn't stop him from standing up and pulling out her seat.

"You wore that just to annoy me, didn't you Granger," he whispered in her ear as he pushed her chair in.

"Welcome to our home, Ms. Granger," Lucius said.

"Thank you," she smiled and placed her napkin on her lap. "It's as lovely as I remember."

The first course appeared on the table, and Hermione took a bite as the three Malfoys exchanged uncomfortable looks. Hermione was not oblivious to the awkward silence.

"Interesting shirt you got there Granger," Draco commented. "Purrito?"

"It's a pun for a muggle food called a burrito. Care to try one Malfoy?"

He raised a brow wondering what interesting game she was playing.

"It is quite lovely," Narcissa complimented. "So, Draco tells us you work at the Ministry. Do you enjoy it?"

"I do. It's a desk job really. Nothing exciting like Harry or Ron. It suits me though."

They all continued to eat as they conversed.

"They became Aurors?" Lucious inquired

"No actually," she answered after she took a drink. "Harry became an Auror. Ron surprisingly got a job at Gringotts as a curse breaker. Bill recommended him."

It took every shred of willpower for Draco not ask how a daft buffoon like him became a curse breaker.

"What about you," she looked at Draco. "You work at the Ministry as well, don't you? I believe I heard you were on the third floor?"

"More of an internship really. I've been looking over proposals that have been sent in."

"Of course it's not necessary for a Malfoy to work. If you'd like, you don't have to as well," Narcissa offered with the intentions of being kind. "Especially once you have children, Hermione. Oh, I hope it's okay I call you Hermione. We will be family soon after all."

The thought of having children with Malfoy made her want to die. She demurely wiped the corner of her mouth with her napkin and took a large drink of her wine.

"May I be blunt with you all?" Hermione asked, giving a slightly apologetic smile.

"Of course," Narcissa answered.

"I truly appreciate your kindness. I honestly was not expecting it. However, I am not happy with this union. But let us agree not to lie or even pretend this is something it isn't. You all detest me, and frankly, I can't say I feel any differently about any of you."

"Oh Ms. Granger," Lucius gave her a disapproving look. "We do not detest you. Not at all."

Hermione wore an expression that clearly said that she did not believe him. "Really? I was one of the witnesses that had you sent to Azkaban. I punched Draco and enjoyed it. I helped free buckbeat. I sent a clump of mud at the back of your head when you were running around looking for Draco at the Battle of Hogwarts. That is the shortest list I could muster, and you claim there's no animosity? Please, don't insult my intelligence."

"We truly wish no hard feelings," Narcissa told her. "We'd like to forge a bond of some sort."

"I have no hard feelings at all," she said after swallowing the small bite she took. "Honestly, I really do detest all of you as well. I suppose being called a mudblood and threatened all those times has turned me into a person who hates," she wiped her mouth one last time and put her napkin on her plate. "I feel there is nothing left to say. I will be taking my leave now. No need to show me out." Before they could respond, she quickly left and apparated out midstep. She knew they had adjusted the wards for her, so she left without any issues.

"Lucius dear," Narcissa looked Lucius who was still eating as if nothing had happened. "I do not think she cares much for us at all."

"No love, I don't believe she does," he turned to Draco who had a visible frown. "How much do you really love that girl? She's going to be quite a bit of work."

"I do not love her," Draco said through clenched teeth. He was really becoming annoyed with people thinking that.

"Then why did we go through the trouble of securing her, dear?" Narcissa asked.

"Because she would never go out with me otherwise and I wouldn't have another opportunity," He stood and excused himself to go up to his room.

He threw himself on his bed and buried his face against his mattress, holding a pillow over his head. He did not love Granger. He wished people would stop accusing him of such. He was just interested in her. He wasn't sure when or how it started.

Draco was sure that he detested her in the beginning. He even knew how that came to be. He offered friendship to that Potter git and was rejected. He couldn't understand why he would choose Granger over him when he was supposed to be the better choice. That was when his dislike started; he knew this to be sure.

And the more he observed her; the more his dislike turned to detest. She was always too much, and he hated that. Too loud. Too opinionated. Too intelligent. Too proud. Too confident.

But then over time, he realized that you could not cater to the insecurities of others. And he realized that she already knew this. She was better, and he was insecure. Then he noticed that she was still too much. She was too brilliant in class. She was too beautiful at the Yule Ball. Too brave… she was too too brave at the Battle of Hogwarts.

He didn't dislike it though. He looked forward to it even. But the war was coming. And then it came. And he realized he was too much as well. He was too late. Too cowardly. Too far in.

Just before he reached the lowest part of his despair, he suddenly perked up. He remembered something his house elf Pimsy had told him. It takes an average of 21 days for someone to form a habit. That was no time at all. He would ingratiate himself to Granger by forcing himself into her routine. Because if there was one thing he learned about Granger, it was that she liked her routine.


	4. Chapter 4

Harry and Ron were passing the time at the Burrow. They were both sitting in Rons' old bedroom while his mother was downstairs making lunch. They were originally downstairs in the kitchen but then Molly told them to make themselves scarce, so they retreated upstairs.

"I was forced into a meeting with Pansy next week to look at flower arrangements," Ron groaned, throwing a small rubber ball against the wall. "I don't know why she even needs me there. She's so bloody bossy."

Harry chuckled. "Haven't gotten any better than?"

"Mate, I don't think that's even possible. Daphne's not bad though, eh? Seems easier to get along with than Pansy, that's for sure."

"I wouldn't know," he said wryly. "Daphne usually can't deign to meet up. Bit of a snob, honestly."

"At least you're not picking out bloody flower arrangements. I don't even know what a flower arrangement is!"

Harry laughed at that. He wondered how Ron had the bad luck in being paired with Pansy. They couldn't be more opposite. Kingsley had told them that the pairings weren't made lightly. They were made after seeking the advice of seers and even a few prophecies. Harry was extremely skeptical on this. He even understood why Hermione was so critical with Trelawney. To call these pairings compatible was a heap of hippogriff dung and they knew it.

"It'll get better mate," Harry tried to make him feel better. "At least Pansy speaks to you. I actually better get going. I'm supposed to meet Daphne at the Three Broomsticks. If she shows up that is."

"Good luck," Ron said.

Harry gave him a wry smile and a look that could easily translate to, ' _yeah right mate,'_ and then he apparated right outside of the Three Broomsticks.

* * *

Pansy was sitting on the edge of Daphne's bed. She watched as Daphne was charming her hair into a low bun. She didn't see the point in having long hair if you were always going to put it up, but that was Daphne's prerogative she supposed. Pansy often wondered why she remained friends with Daphne. It was simple enough in the beginning. Children befriended anyone and everyone. But Daphne was not someone she would chose to befriend. She was too quite and too reserved. She was hardly ever exciting. Daphne was loyal though and after being friends for so long they've held each others secrets. So although she wouldn't chose a girl like Daphne to become her friend now, she was glad to have a friend like Daphne.

"At least Potter is wealthy," Pansy said, offhandedly. "I get the poorest wizard in Britain, and you get someone who is annoying, unattractive but at least rich and of half decent bloodlines."

"You are rich enough to support Weasley and his entire family tenfold," Daphne told her, still looking at her mirror. "I do not understand why you are complaining. I hear your mother is satisfied. At least he is a pureblood. Though I suppose," she made eye contact through the mirror for a brief moment. "That would give you reason to be unhappy."

"Someone that poor can barely be counted as a pureblood," Pansy scoffed, ignoring her other comment. "Why are you meeting Potter anyway? You really want to be seen in public with that hideous creature."

Daphne chuckled. "We are to be married. Being seen in public is the least of my worries," she turned her chair around and faced Pansy. "How do I look?"

Pansy looked her over with a critical eye. Daphne was always the classic beauty. She had fair skin, light blonde hair, and the deepest green eyes she had ever seen. She always kept her lips a light pink that almost looked natural and she kept her make-up rather natural as well. And she knew she did that because if she always looked natural, no one would expect her to be hiding what was underneath.

Pansy grabbed her wand and pointed it at Daphne's face. "Revelio."

Daphne averted her gaze.

"You look like someone who could fool Saint Potter," Pansy told her.

* * *

Harry had already sat at an empty table. He ordered two butter beers and waited for Daphne to come in. He listened as others called him the hero who defeated Voldemort. A few of the other patrons would lift their glasses up to him. He smiled in returned. When she did arrive, he saw her immediately. She was the complete opposite of Pansy. He knew it was wrong to assume Pansy represented all Pureblood girls but still he did so. Which was why Daphne was always a surprise to him. While Pansy was loud and demanded to be heard, Daphne was quieter.

She took a seat across from him and thanked him for the butter beer but didn't take a drink.

"I, uh, suppose we should discuss the wedding?" Harry stumbled with his words.

"If you'd like. My mother has already started planning. I do not care about the wedding, and I only have one request in regards to our marriage," Daphne was scourgifying the table.

"Yeah sure, what is it?"

"I'd prefer to live at my ancestral home with my parents and younger sister. It is not completely unheard of for the children to still live with their parents even after marriage. Usually it's the husbands, but you do not have an ancestral home."

"My grandparents had a house left to me, and I also have Grimmauld Place," he informed her. He truly had no wish to live with her parents.

"Let me rephrase. You do not have an ancestral home to my standards. That is my one request. I'd like to stay in the home I was raised. We'll be in a separate wing from my parents, and you could come and go as you like. You needn't even be there if you do not wish to."

Harry's suspicions were true. This marriage would be more of a business arrangement than a bonding of allies. He'd always thought that when he got married, it'd be an us against the world type of relationship. He imagined being confided in, trusted, and adored. Perhaps it was arrogant of him to wish to be treasured and to treasure his wife, but that was what he hoped for nonetheless.

"I see," Harry said. "I suppose I could think it over."

"I would appreciate that," Daphne gathered her purse. "I must be getting back. That was all I had to discuss."

Harry watched her leave and ordered a firewhiskey. He heard the whispers around him, and he heard what they called him. They called him a hero. They call him a savior. They cheered his name when Voldemort's body dropped to the ground. They compared him to a beacon of hope when they were searching for Horcruxes. He remembered the awed looks when he first walked through Diagon Alley. 'Harry Potter,' they'd awe. 'It's Harry Potter.'

He didn't know if they'd always call him a hero. He didn't know if they'd always consider him a savior. But he did know this. They will always remember his name. And they will always forget that he was just a boy.

Harry did the one thing he always did when he felt lost. He pulled out the old protean charmed galleon he kept in his pocket at all times and sent a message to Hermione. He barely set his cup down when Hermione walked in through the front door looking worried.

"Harry," she sat down across from him, reaching for his hand. She also cast a quick muffliato. "Is everything alright?"

"No Hermione, everything is not alright. Everything is awful," he looked at her looking like the same conflicted war-torn boy. "She wants to live with her parents. She doesn't even want me there! We're to be married, you know. Sham or not. Marriage law or not. A marriage should mean something, right 'Mione?"

"Harry," her hands remained holding his but she was giving him a blank look. "I'm marrying Malfoy. Did you seriously use the charmed galleon reserved for emergencies to complain about Daphne Greengrass? Who is arguably the best match out of all of us?"

Harry groaned and laid his head on the table. "I know. I'm a right git for complaining when I could've had it worse."

Hermione let out a sigh. "Marriages are about compromise. If you can, compromise. If you can't, then stand your ground."

His head remained on the table, but he shifted and lifted his gaze to look up to his dearest friend. "And is that how you are planning to deal with Malfoy?"

She pursed her lips and closed her eyes for a moment. "Yes," she finally answered. "I have no choice but to marry that spoiled prat, but everything else is up to us. Of course, I will do my best to make it work. But if there were something that I absolutely could not do then I would fight against it with my entire being."

"So you would oppose living in Malfoy Manor?"

Hermione took her hands from his and placed her fingers at her temples. Her eyes were closed and she had a very trying expression. "If you were closer, Harry, I would slap you," she opened her eyes and folded her hands together on the table. "Of course I would oppose living in that torture house. Don't be ridiculous."

"I wish I could be more like you 'mione," he slumped back and looked dejected. "Or like Ron. Ron takes things so easily. Sure he gets mad, but he always seems to calm down quickly. And you're always so rational about things. I'm so angry," he said but he didn't look angry at all. "I'm so angry that I don't even know what to do."

"I'm angry too," she said quietly, and Harry looked up. "I'm so angry I could scream. It's okay to be angry. I'm bloody angry too but don't let it consume you. So tell Daphne that living with her parents is not an option but work to find a reasonable compromise."

He nodded, slowly. "Okay."

Hermione and Harry remained there for a while longer. They both drank several glasses of firewhiskey and wondered what their future held. They thought they were passed all the bad times, but it would seem that they had a few more hurdles to jump through.


	5. Chapter 5

"Pimsy has called this meeting because you two is the biggest disgrace of parents in the world," Pimsy announced to Lucius and Narcissa. The two of them were sitting at their dining room table while Pimsy handed them each a sheet of paper. "This paper outlines my plans to get Master Draco the girl who has stolen his heart."

The two of them looked at the paper which was written in red crayon.

"Pimsy," Lucius drawled. "This paper simply says and I quote, 'Master Draco stops acting like a spoiled poof, and the poofy girl will fall madly in love, ' and then there is a picture of, I'm assuming, Draco and the Granger girl holding hands."

"I is glad you can read," Pimsy quipped. "Now I is knowing about all Master Cissa's parties. Even the one next month. You send owl to poofy girl, and I set plan in motion."

"What exactly is a 'poof,' Pimsy?" Narcissa inquired.

"Pimsy does not have time with these questions. Sigmund will tell you." Pimsy turned her nose up and walked away.

"Narcissa love, why haven't we given that annoying little elf a sweater yet?" Lucious asked, taking her hand in his.

"Oh, my dear," she laughed lightly. "We've given her three sweaters, two skirts, a dress, and a pair a polka dot socks. Apparently, no one can raise Draco besides her. And don't forget, the last time we attempted to rid ourselves of her, Draco told us he would never speak to us again if we did so again."

"Well, soon enough he will be married and out of the manor," he gave his wife a lascivious look. "And then you are all mine again."

"Haven't you heard? Draco will be living here at the manor with Ms. Granger."

Lucius groaned and his wife laughed.

* * *

Hermione flooed into her office ready to send in three more proposals on house elf rights, making breeding of captive dragons illegal, and making werewolves official members of society. As she stepped out of her floo, the first thing she saw was an unwanted Malfoy sitting at her desk with his feet propped up on her desk.

"What the bloody hell are you doing here Malfoy?" She yelled, pulling her jacket off. It floated away to her coat stand. "And get your disgusting feet off my desk!"

"I can't visit my fiancé at work?" he asked with an infuriating smirk. He also placed his feet on the ground where they belonged. "And these shoes cost more than everything in this office. I would hardly call them disgusting."

"Get out," she told him flatly.

"Touchy touchy Granger," he stood from her seat and let her push him out of her way. He walked around and examined her small office. He looked at the picture hanging in her office of her and her parents.

He had heard what she had done for them. She completely erased and rewrote their memories to keep them safe from Voldemort. But like always, she was too good. And after the war, she couldn't undo the spell without risking severely damaging them.

"I'm quite busy Malfoy. If there is nothing of importance, please leave."

He turned to her and gave her the smug smile she always hated. "I'll leave Granger if you give me a smile."

She gave him a flat look. And then she flipped him the bird.

Draco was actually shocked at the action. "Now Granger," he sounded slightly disappointed. "That is beneath you."

"No, what's beneath me is conversing with you in my office. Once again, please leave," she started sorting the papers on her desk.

Both of them were interrupted when an owl started pecking at her window. Hermione had forgotten to open it, which was what she usually did once she got to her office.

"Ah, my best mate, Patroclus," Draco said, opening the window. Hermione remembered the rude owl from before. He was perched on Draco's arm, and Draco took a scroll from him.

"A letter for you Granger, from my father," he walked over and placed it on her desk. "Odd though. I didn't hear anything about owling you for anything."

She ignored the letter for the moment. "You named your owl Patroclus?"

"Of course I did," he answered, petting Patroclus on the head. He pulled out a piece of meat and fed it to him before letting him fly back out of the window. "Best friend of a blonde demi-god who was perfect in every way. Seemed quite fitting."

"You truly are as arrogant as you seem," she told him.

"Oh Granger, flattery will get you everything," he sat on the chair that was placed in front of her desk.

"You do know that Achilles wasn't so perfect. He was still just a man, and he died," Hermione put emphasis on the word 'died.'

"I choose to ignore that bit. Are you going to read the letter?"

She ignored the question. "Do you ignore the bit where they were probably gay lovers?"

Draco shrugged. "What's wrong with that? And besides, if Patroclus – my owl – were human rather than a majestic owl of pure perfection, then I'd imagine he'd be quite fetching. I could do worse."

Hermione did her best to keep a straight face, but Draco still saw the corner of her mouth curve upwards.

" _Day 1. 20 more to go,"_ Draco thought, smug.

* * *

Ginny and Blaise had met up only a couple of times the last couple of weeks. Usually, they would have a drink at The Three Broomsticks and be on their way, but this time they were having tea inside his library at his residence. They never spoke about anything of any importance. They kept it light. Him because he didn't like people picking at his brain and her because he learned that she liked to smile.

He learned that she was pretty. Not sexy like he had said before, but pretty. She didn't smile the way Pansy did when she was mocking you. She didn't smile they way Daphne did when she was being demure and polite. Ginevra smiled like the sun. Wide and bright and you could see it in her entire face.

Blaise liked it when she smiled.

Currently, he was sitting in a chair sipping a glass of scotch. Ginny was laying on a chaise flipping through a Quidditch magazine.

"Now that we have some privacy," Ginny says to him without looking up from her magazine. "I wanted to have a bit of a serious conversation. Gossip travels fast, so I've never brought it up before."

"I have yet to decide whether it is a good or a bad thing that you have a way of always keeping me intrigued," he commented, his voice deep and smooth.

She smirked and turned the page. "Oh, Blaise. You'll learn soon enough that I'm so good at being bad that I'll have you begging for mercy. But that's beside the point. I wanted to let you know, that I am not the one," she glanced at him and saw that he had arched an eyebrow. "I don't know what type of idiotic pureblood ideologies you were raised with, but I will not be complying."

"Oh, I would never dream of it, Ginevra," he smirked.

"And although I consider your mother the icons of icons. I will not be living with her."

Blaise scoffed. "Icon? Have you forgotten who my mother was Ginevra?"

"Infamous maneater who's known for her beauty, wealth, and string of dead husbands? Of course not. Any woman who scams and kills sugar daddies is an icon of mine. Men use women all the time, and no one bats an eye. She changes the game, and I admire that."

Blaise watched her read her magazine. He wondered where that rumor came from exactly. Not that he didn't see how people got the idea but he was still curious who first came up with it.

"Want to know a secret little red?"

The nickname caught her attention and made her turn her head to him. "What's that?"

"It's been forgotten that my mother comes from old money. She's wealthy even without the husbands."

Ginny gave him a look that said 'so what?'.

"She always fancies herself in love with these blokes. They wine her and dine her and buy her nice things. For a while, she's happy," he sits back into his chair and rests his elbow on the arm of the chair, resting his head on his fist. "But the thing is, people aren't predictable. Not really anyway. Maybe they have their habits, but you can't guess their every move. And people rarely act the exact way you want them to. My mother doesn't understand this, so she stops loving them. And because she can't control them and because they don't do exactly as she wants, she feels betrayed. And you know what happens when you betray a Slytherin."

Ginny watched as he smirked at the end as if he was amused by what he said. But he didn't look amused at all. "What about you? Do you do exactly as she wants?"

He held her gaze for what felt like an eternity.

"No," he told her, giving her a very leveled look. "Although I am perfection. I am still just human. And humans never do exactly as others want them to."

Ginny did not give him a look of sympathy. He wouldn't want it. That was the thing she learned about people. They were too nice. They pitied people thinking they were being kind. They gave false hope and empty promises when they thought it would be helpful. But those things rarely are. So when Blaise Zabini had told her that his mum didn't love him, she didn't give him a look of pity.

She smiled. "Human? Oh, I don't know about that. Do humans have cheekbones that sharp or a jawline for days?"

He smirked. "I don't believe being paired with you will be completely unfortunate."

She smirked back and went back to her magazine. "I have yet to decide. But I suppose you're decent enough to look at in the meantime."

Blaise inwardly decided that the game had been set and that from here on, Ginevra was his.


	6. Chapter 6

Much to Hermione's dismay, Draco had been waiting in her office every morning for the past week. He even went as far as to open her window for owls, sort her mail, and have a cup of coffee waiting for her. So when she flooed in she was not the least bit surprised to see him sitting in a chair – an over the top gold chair that he had brought in by the way – reading the Daily Prophet. She took her jacket off and sent it to the coat rack and went to her desk.

"Honestly Malfoy, aren't you tired of coming here every morning?" She asked and took a drink of her coffee and hummed her satisfaction.

"Not at all," he replied. "Good, is it? One spoon of hazelnut cream and three sugars? I think I got it just right this time."

"You did. Quite perfect actually," she started to look through her correspondences. "How'd you know how I liked my coffee?"

Draco shrugged. "I hate to say it Granger, but you're very predictable. It wasn't hard to find out how you took your coffee."

"Well what can I say, I'm a right bore. Ask anyone."

"I'd hardly say that," Draco smirked. "My mother would like to know if you plan on attending the dinner she's hosting next week. You haven't responded yet."

She put down the letter she was reading and looked up at Draco. "What answer do I have to give to get you to leave me alone? And honestly, do _you_ even enjoy going to those things?"

"I do," he answered, a matter of factly. "They're not so bad. If given a chance I'm sure you'd enjoy them as well. Along with my parents."

"Yeah, I'm sure I'd love your deatheater parents," she muttered, going back to her letters.

"Careful Granger," there was a hint of warning in his tone. "Those are my parents you're talking about."

She glanced at him and saw that he wasn't too happy with her comment. Not that she cared. At least, she told herself she shouldn't care. "I have nothing to wear to that sort of thing."

"I'll have something sent to you."

She gave him an incredulous look. "Something embarrassing and incredibly revealing, I'm sure. You honestly expect me to wear something you picked out?"

He laughed. "Granger, some faith, eh? I'll pick something flattering. And if I don't my mother will personally berate me."

She let out a long sigh. "Fine," she conceded. "If I deem the dress decent enough, I will attend. But only for an hour at most," she quickly added.

"Excellent," he said, clasping his hands together. "Now while you're being quite agreeable, let's discuss wedding plans."

Hermione let out a long exaggerated groan. "Malfoy, just let your mum plan it. Honestly, I have no qualms about it."

"She has you riding in on a unicorn while 12 dozen doves fly all around you," he says, deadpan. "That's not even the ostentatious part." He noticed her horrified expression and continued. "Now you see why you should involve yourself in the wedding plans? My mother is notoriously over the top and dramatic. Though," he thought back to her ridiculous groans. "I suppose you two will have that in common."

"Fine, we can go over the wedding then," she grumbled. "I have to finish this proposal first. It keeps getting rejected."

"The Wolfsbane one? I can help, if you'd like."

"Malfoy, what is it you want? You can't tell me you have a sudden interest in helping werewolves. Or that you enjoy sitting here every day. Or that you are honestly okay with being married to a bucktooth, frizzy haired, book worm, mudblood like me. So what in Merlin's name are you trying to accomplish?"

Draco winced. He didn't know how to tell her not to call herself those things when he knew she did so because he called her those things first. He didn't know how to tell her that by the time he realized his entire mindset was wrong, he was already too deep in the other side. He didn't know how to tell her he wished he could take it back.

"Granger, I'm sorry."

Hermione had to do a double-take. She wasn't sure she heard him correctly because never in a million years could she have guessed that he would say those words to her.

"I was a prat. There was never anything you did that made me want to hate you. I just did. I wish I had some great excuse. Like my mother didn't love me or that my father forced me to become a deatheater. But I don't have one. I was just a spoiled prat."

Hermione watched him shift from a cocky git to a vulnerable man. She wondered if she would ever forgive him. Or maybe she already did. She realized long ago that he was just a kid like the rest of them. And she thought that maybe when he realized he was on the wrong side, it was already too late. Not everyone could double like Snape. And she couldn't blame him for not being able to do so.

"At least you are aware of your utter pratness," she told him. "Perhaps living with you won't be completely unbearable."

Draco smirked. He was sure he wasn't magically forgiven for their entire school career but he felt they made a step in a generally positive direction. "Granger, you're going to find that living with me means living in complete luxury. I'll even give you an owl like Patroclus instead of that dowdy ministry owl you've been using."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Utter prat," she mumbled. "Speaking of utter prats, Ginny and Blaise has invited everyone over for dinner tonight over at her flat."

"Ah yes, attractive little red," he rubbed his chin while Hermione gave him a flat look. "I believe I sent an owl accepting the invitation. Was it safe to assume that you would be attending as well."

She nodded, signing a few papers. "She and Blaise seem to be getting on alright. So why not support them. Bit fast if you asked me though."

Draco chuckled. "Oh lighten up Granger. Knowing the two of them I think it's safe to say that they're just having fun." Although she was still looking at her myriad of papers, he could still see her sour look. "Don't approve? Blaise was never technically a death eater. He's not a bad bloke," he told her, thinking he was easing her worries.

She took a breath and looked up to Draco. "Of course he isn't. People typically aren't. Even you," she said it dismissively. "Ginny's just like that. Always jumping into things."

"Didn't you ride a dragon out of Gringotts?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, to which he smirked. _Prat._

* * *

Blaise watched as Ginny and Ron argued in the kitchen over how to properly spell an apple pie. He was sipping on a glass of his own firewhiskey that he brought over. Merlin knew that she did not appreciate high quality firewhiskey.

Meanwhile, Pansy was sitting with him at the kitchen table. Pansy for all her superfluous and superficial talk, was the most observant of them all. She had the ability to pick up on things that no one else did and then she watched them and analyzed them. So it was no wonder that she noticed the moment that Blaise became seriously enamored with 'Ginevra'. Inwardly, she wanted to roll her eyes. Blaise and Draco were both pathetic.

"Blaise," Pansy's voice was low but haughty. "If you stare any harder at that red bint, I am going to gag. It's embarrassing enough to have even come here without the disgusting love sick looks."

Blaise shifted his glance to Pansy. "I was not staring," his voice was even and smooth.

Pansy scoffed. "I know you wouldn't think to lie to me so obviously, you're lying to yourself. Really, my reputation dwindles due to you and Draco."

"What are you two goin' on about?" Ron turned and asked as Ginny charmed the ingredients to mix themselves.

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Why does he insist on speaking to me?" She asked at her normal volume and turned to Blaise. "Really, why did I let you convince me to come to this hovel."

"Don't be such a bitch, Pansy," Ginny turned pointing her wand at her. "That's my brother and my house you're talking about."

She looked incredibly bored. Slowly she clapped her hands. "Oh congratulations," she drawled. "Sticking up for your commoner brother and this dump. So proud. So little reason to be."

"Pansy," Blaise said as Ron had just grabbed Ginny's arm to stop her from confronting Pansy. "Perhaps you are correct," he stood and turned to Ginny. "I believe this would be better done at another time," he held a hand out to Pansy. "Let's go Pans."

She slapped his hand away. "Honestly, always thinking to command us little women about. Sit down. You look foolish. I came here to see how peasants live and I am not leaving until I am good and ready."

"Don't make a scene," he said in a lowered voice, still looking down on her."

Pansy stood and Blaise expectantly offered his arm. Instead of taking it, she walked past him and purposely shoved him. "Okay, _Ginevra,"_ she sneered. "I'll be nice. Show me how to make this peasant dish."

Ron and Ginny exchanged looks. They were having a private conversation on whether or not they would allow her to help. Currently, she was poking at the ingredients with her wand. Eventually, Ron shrugged and Ginny's facial expression clearly said ' _why the fuck not'._

And then Pansy announced, "I'll summon my house elves. Even your ingredients are substandard. Honestly, how do poor people live?"

Ron and Ginny both let out an exasperated sigh and Blaise had sat back down to enjoy the show.

 _Oh, this will be entertaining, indeed,_ Blaise thought, smirking.


	7. Chapter 7

Harry was at his place drinking a firewhiskey. He had just left Ginny's flat and thought he would drown in his self inflicted misery. All the other couples seemed to get along. And by 'get along' he meant speak to each other. Blaise and Ginny were the only ones that seemed to enjoy each others company. Draco and Hermione argued but it wasn't as hostile as it was back at Hogwarts. Pansy and Ron were the most interesting of them all. Pansy insulted him and Ron at her food when she wasn't looking.

But Harry was alone. Well, after the first five minutes. Daphne showed up only to ask about their future living arrangments. He begrudgingly agreed to living with her parents but then she left almost immediately. He took another large drink when someone started to knock at his door. He wondered who it was since he wasn't expecting anyone. When he opened it, he was surprised to see Astoria Greengrass. Without any greeting, she pushed passed him and invited herself inside.

"Well sure, come on in," he muttered, shutting the door. "Can I do something for you?"

Astoria made herself comfortable on an armchair and summoned herself a cup of tea. "I heard some unsettling news and wanted to confirm," she took a sip of her tea and made a face of mild distaste. "Are you and Daphne going to reside at our ancestral home?"

"I suppose so."

He saw her eyes narrow at him slightly.

"I know everyone thinks you're some great hero who delivered us from the evils of Voldemort," she rolled her eyes. "But I'll have you know that in my opinion, you're nothing."

Harry stood there wondering why this teenaged girl came into his home just to insult him. He opened his mouth to retort but was immediately shut down.

"Shut it," Astoria demanded. "Although I am loathed to have to be in your presence, it turns out you are an ignorant prat who can't see common sense."

Harry blinked several times, dumbfounded. Astoria was nothing like Daphne. She reminded him of Pansy even.

She crossed her legs and leaned into the back of the chair. She took a deep breath before continuing. "My parents were fine with Daphne," she told him. "At the beginning that is. After all, they could always have another. But then they had another girl, and that girl had an old family curse manifest inside of her. It caused complications, and my mother could no longer have any more children. So they had two girls."

She swallowed and was quiet for a moment, thinking of old memories. "Father was furious. Mother blamed me. I hear that my mother never touched me as a baby. Only the elves did."

Harry felt pity for the girl in front of him. She said things nonchalantly. But no one was nonchalant about those types of things.

"You know there were times my sister would hide me in the back of her closet. She's older than me, as you know, so she learned a few spells early. One that kept me well hidden. And she would never tell him where I was. Even when he hit her like a no good muggle… even when he cursed her like a no good wizard."

She took a deep breath and leaned forward to reach her cup of tea. She took a drink and made another face.

"There was a time Daphne had come home early from Hogwarts. It was her second year during I believe Christmas break. She came home to see mother sending me straight into the wall. I dislocated my shoulder that time. But Daphne being Daphne, picked up our three hundred-year-old vase that had been charmed by past generations and shattered it onto the ground. She paid for it the entire break. Her bedroom walls are saturated with her screams."

"My sister is the bravest hero I know. And I can never tell her that because the one time I did, she broke down like I've never seen before." Until now, Astoria wasn't quite looking at Harry, but this time she looked straight at him. "Do not let her live back home. She doesn't need to protect me."

Harry was stunned. "Who will then?"

"I'm at Hogwarts most of the year. She doesn't need to be at that place. She still protects me. She's still covered in bruises and cuts. There's a price to pay when you become a hero, Potter. And I need you to pay it for her and keep her the bloody hell away from that house and our parents."

He stood standing there, trying to remember her exact appearance. She never appeared hurt. She always seemed fine. Harry couldn't help the guilt he felt for thinking she was a snob. Perhaps she just wanted to protect her secret. Perhaps she was too scared to get close to anyone.

"Promise me," she demanded when he didn't say anything.

"She uses a glamor charm," he stated, figuring it out. "I promise. And I'll find a way to help you too."

He saw a flash of vulnerability, but it disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. "Don't. I don't need it. Just worry about Daphne." She stood up. "I'd like to say that I'll be seeing you, Potter. But somehow I doubt that'll happen. Keep your promise," she walked passed him and showed herself out.

Harry watched her leave, feeling his heart clench with guilt. "Bloody hell," he said to the empty room. It took Harry all of three minutes to decide what he would do. He grabbed his coat and headed out with one destination in mind.

* * *

Draco Malfoy was lounging on the couch completely unoccupied with anything when an elf announced Harry Potters request to see him. Draco did not sit up and acknowledge him in any way.

"Malfoy," Harry said, growing impatient.

Draco groaned and rolled his eyes. "What is it Potter? I am quite busy."

Harry opened his mouth to ask him what he could possibly be busy with when he was just laying there but decided against it. "I have a favor to ask of you. If you assist me, I'll be in your debt."

Draco's eye narrowed just a fraction as he considered how this could benefit him. "I am intrigued," he announced, sitting up and facing Harry. "Go on."

"Okay," Harry said more to himself and then walked over. He dragged an accent chair over by the couch Draco was sitting at.

Draco scoffed. "Merlin, I can tell you were raised by muggles."

Harry ignored the jibe and took a seat. "You see, Hermione is muggleborn. She may not pick up on certain traditions and the like."

Draco gave him a blank stare and he mentally questioned the very little intelligence he credited him for.

"So I was thinking that Astoria could stay during her summers off and help Hermione. I know Hermione would agree once I ask so I suppose that just leaves you."

Draco leaned back into the couch and crossed his legs. He considered Harry for a moment and sorted through his thoughts before speaking again. "Let me get this straight," he straightened his legs once more and leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. "You found out about how abusive the Greengrass parent are and I'm betting Daph tried to force you into living with her parents. Which I'm betting Astoria – who is my ex-fiance by the way- found out about that and made you promise to keep Daphne away. I bet you considered offering to allow Astoria to live with you but that would be uncouth. So you came up with the brilliant plan of using Grangers unfortunate background to weasel her into our house. Even though Granger is a know it all swot whose mother in law is the over critical Narcissa Malfoy. Is that about right, Potter?"

"That's right," he immediately answered, unashmed.

"That would never work," Draco shot his plan down and Harry appeared crestfallen. "Ginny and Blaise however, would be perfect. Blaise wouldn't mind, the Greengrasses could be convinced, and I'm betting Weaselette won't object."

"Oh that's splendid," Harry beamed, standing up. "That Zabini bloke doesn't seem half bad and Ginny likes him too."

Draco stood as well. "Potter," he called before Harry reached the floo. "Why do you care about Astoria anyway? I thought you were above helping rich pureblood slytherins."

Harry turned and had a serious expression. "She's just a kid, Malfoy. My family was abusive too and no kid deserves a life like that."

There was silence between the two young men. Two young men who spent their entire school careers fighting each other. Harry who was thrusted into the world and Draco who just made all the wrong choices.

"You know," Draco was the first to break the silence. "Blaise has a decent quidditch pitch. Astoria and Daphne are actually pretty good chasers too."

"Is that so? Hermione referees all the time too."

"I'll set something up," Draco said.

Harry nodded and then left through the Malfoy floo, heading to Zabini's house.

Just like there's many ways to say 'I love you', in that moment, Harry and Draco leaned that there were many ways to say 'hey want to become friends?'. Sure there were the traditional ways, such as, offering a friendly hand, defeating a troll, or creaitng a secret organization to fight against a maniac. But now Harry knew that, 'You know, Blaise has a decent quidditch pitch. Astoria and Daphne are actually pretty good chasers too' translated to 'Hey want to become friends?' and Draco learned that 'Hermione referres all the time too' was another way to say 'Yeah mate, we can be friends'.


End file.
